Amber
by TeacupHeart
Summary: After freeing a group of mutants, the X-men discover a woman who is stronger than she first seems. Determined not to be a victim any longer, she'll have to overcome the horrors of her past with the help of her new friends.
1. Rescue

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men. This is my first fanfiction, please be kind, thank you.**

**1. Rescue**

People were running, some being pulled or carried out of the cell rooms. Most of them hurried and followed directions, a mixture of relief and dazed disbelief on their faces. Some wouldn't come out, and one or two of the X-men would have to go in and assure them this wasn't a trick, they weren't there to hurt them, that they needed to leave before the complex was destroyed.

Wolverine ran down the halls, using his claws to tear open any doors that hadn't opened when Beast had taken control of the security system. Yelling at people to "Move, down that way!" Beast's voice in his ear communicator, telling him there was one last hallway. He smelled fewer people, the last couple cells empty.

A man in the same garb as the other prisoners stood at one of the cell doors looking out, fear and hope warring on his face. Wolverine slowed down. "Time to go, bub." He said.

The man, mouth open and eyes wide, nodded dumbly, then turned back into the room. Wolverine saw him crouch down and pick up another prisoner, a woman. Wolverine turned towards the hall, took a long sniff, wondered if there was anyone else. Ice Man ran up behind him, asked the thought aloud.

"I don't know." The man said.

"Yes, there is, down that way." The woman mumbled, she seemed only half conscious.

Wolverine turned to Ice Man, "Help them get out, I'll make sure." He ran down the last hall.

It was darker in this hallway, he noticed there were no lights in the fixtures. Checking every door along the way, he could smell no one until he reached the last door. It was locked, he tore it open with his claws, no light in the cell, pitch black, but he could smell…someone. His heightened senses let him hear a rustle and the clink of metal as his eyes adjusted. There, on the floor, a small heap.

"I'm here to help." He said gruffly as he came closer. The heap shifted and he heard the clink again. His eyes now adjusted, he saw a chain on the wall, he picked it up, and found the other end hooked to an ankle. He cut through it, scooped up the heap, and started running back to the others.

He wondered if it was a child. It was a tiny, light as a bird body, wrapped up in a blanket, but he didn't slow down to look. He was just grateful the body didn't resist, just leaned into him.

"Wolverine, did we get everyone?" Storm's voice in his ear.

"I've got the last one." He said. A few seconds later and he saw her, she glanced at his arms, nodded and started heading out. Cyclops was setting up the last of the explosives. "Go!" The team leader said to him. For once, Wolverine did.

Shifting the body, he could see part of a face by his shoulder, they stepped into the sunlight and suddenly the body flinched, the face turned and burrowed into his shoulder, as if the light had hurt. He remembered how dark the room had been, and the hallway too. He wondered how long it had been since this person had seen sunlight.

Getting aboard the Black Bird, he could see space was limited, there were more prisoners than they originally thought. Storm gestured toward a bench that was folded down from the wall and he sat next to her.

Storm tried to rearrange the blanket around the body in his arms. He could see now it was female, possibly a teenager or a woman. Hard to tell with her so starved. The stick like arms clung to him and her head was shaved, only dark stubble against pale skin, and her neck so thin, barley holding her head up. She was shivering and when he realized she was cold as ice, he pulled her closer to him and rubbed her arms as Cyclops boarded and the engines roared for take off.

During the flight back to the mansion, Jean and Beast had gone around, checking for injuries. The rescued prisoners had begun to thank them, many of them breaking into tears. It made Wolverine uncomfortable, and angry at the people who had imprisoned them. With grim satisfaction he remembered the soldiers he had killed and the sound of the explosives going off shortly after the Black Bird left the ground.

Jean finally reached him at the back of the jet. "Hey." She said to him, her eyes compassionate but tired.

"Hey, I think she's asleep." He told her. Jean lifted a corner of the blanket, gently took an ankle out.

There was still a metal cuff with a couple chain links attached to it. Jean's brows furrowed as she examined the skin beneath, raw and bloody. "This is probably infected." She said, "We'll have to get the anklet off and have a good look at it in the med ward."

He nodded, he could smell the wound, the blood and the pus. He shifted the girl/woman so Jean could check for any other immediate injuries. There were bruises, and scars, and burns, and obvious dehydration and starvation. The tight line of Jean's mouth matched Wolverine's. He had to admire the red head, she wasn't squeamish about any injuries, over the past few years he had seen her treat several bad ones that could have made a grown man puke, and all the while she'd shown kindness and reassurance to her patient, though he could tell she was angry at the perpetrators, like she was now.

"Let her rest." He told Jean as the girl/woman stirred and pulled away from Jean and back into his shoulder. "There's no place to put her and nothing we can do now, if I try to cut the anklet off now and we hit an air bump…" He trailed off.

Jean nodded, "Bring her to the med ward as soon as we land, I want to hook her to an IV and get some fluids in her right away."

It was Wolverine's turn to nod and he tried not to look at Jean as she turned back to the front of the jet. He'd always had a thing for her, but she had married Cyclops.

Sighing, he looked at the girl. He realized he was holding her with one arm and she fit. So small. His duffel bag was bigger and heavier. If he squeezed her hard, she'd probably break. He wondered why they'd chained her. He could only remember one other prisoner, a feral, who was chained up. It had taken Storm a little time to calm the feral down before Wolverine thought it safe to cut the chains. Chaining up this girl though, keeping her in so much darkness, it made no sense to him.

As soon as the ramp lowered, Logan, which was what he called himself when he wasn't on a mission, was walking down it, the girl held in one arm. She started to stir as he took her into the medical ward. He gently set her on a bed. Jean soon followed, she pulled on a white lab coat and began setting up an IV. "Do you think you can cut the anklet off? Or should we use a saw?" Jean asked him, but before he could answer, there was a thump.

Turning, they saw the girl on the floor by the bed, scrambling backwards, her eyes wide with fear.

"Hey." Logan said and stepped towards her, but she scrambled further away, the smell of panic pouring off her, he stood still and watched as she tried to stand up, but only fell back down. "Easy." He said, squatting down to her level, not sure what to do.

"She's terrified." Jean said behind him.

"Yeah, I figured that."

"It's the room, and my white coat. Oh God, she's projecting so loudly, the things… the things they've done." Her voice choked and Logan turned to see tears in Jean's eyes. "Get her out of here, out of the room now! Take her to Hank!"

Moving quickly, he scooped the girl up and hustled out of the med ward, back towards the jet. The girl struggled, pushing and flailing at him, but so weak he barely noticed.

"My goodness!" Hank exclaimed as Logan called his name and ran up to him in a corner of the hanger. "What's the matter?"

"I dunno, she started freaking out and Jean said to get her to you. I think…" and here he paused, remembering the recurring nightmare he'd had ever since waking up with no memory a couple decades ago. "I think maybe, the med room, and Jean's coat, might've given her a flashback. We know they did experiments."

"Ah, yes." Hank said and looked at the girl.

She had stopped struggling and was staring at Hank. Most people did. He was covered in fur, and blue. His codename was Beast, but his was a gentle soul. Surprisingly, the smell of her fear was fading, and then she reached out to Hank, gently brushing her hand against the fur on his cheek. This was so unusual for him, that he froze.

"We're mutants." A cultured English voice said as Professor Xavier, founder of the X-men, rolled up to them in his wheelchair. "Like you, we're mutants, we're not going to harm you."

The girl looked from Hank, to the professor, to Logan, and back.

The professor was looking at the girl carefully. "Logan, would you please put the young lady down?"

"I don't think she can walk, Professor." He replied.

"Gently, on the floor will be fine." As Logan lowered her to the floor the professor looked into her eyes and pointed to her right foot. "That cuff needs to be taken off, and your ankle treated. Logan here has adamantium claws. Logan, please show her."

Logan hesitated, not wanting the girl to freak out again, but he trusted Xavier. Holding his hand out and away from her, he released the three blades from the back of his hand. The girl gave a little jump, but smelled more surprised than scared. She turned to look in Wolverine's eyes.

"I won't hurt you." He told her, then he reached for her ankle.

The fear smell spiked and there were tears in her eyes when he glanced back at her. She opened her mouth and moved her lips as if speaking, but no sound came out.

"Professor?" He asked, unsure.

"Her mind is in a jumble I'm afraid, I can't speak to her telepathically. Perhaps you should start with one of the links. Show her so she understands. "

Logan picked up the end link with one hand, retracted all but one of the claws from the other, and made eye contact with her as he slowly held the link up, and cut through it like aluminum foil.

Her expression immediately relaxed, and she seemed to understand now as he gently took her calf, holding it still. He carefully put the blade against the hinge of the cuff, angling the sharp edge away from her, and cut through.

"Dear me." Hank said as he crouched down and removed the cuff, taking a layer of dead skin with it. His senses as keen as Logan's, both men wrinkled their noses at the smell. Where the cuff had been, where skin should have been, was an open wound, encircling the right ankle. It was bloody and oozing, the raw muscle showing.

The professor's head was tilted, his expression far away for a moment, then he focused. "I was speaking with Jean, she thinks it's best not to panic her again by bringing her to the med ward. She'll send Ororo with an IV and the supplies you'll need Hank. Logan, there are some rooms upstairs we've been using for storage. Would you and Peter please clear them out? We're going to need the space."

Logan, who wasn't at his best around other people, gladly took the opportunity to help elsewhere. He stopped to look in on Jean. She had removed the lab coat in an attempt to reassure the mutants who were being escorted to the med ward one at a time, in order of medical priority. She gave him a brief smile before returning to her patients. Logan remembered the look on her face when she said the girl was projecting, Jean was so strong, and it bothered him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what had happened to the girl.

Ororo/Storm brought Hank what he needed and stayed to help. With words of reassurance, one needle went into the girl's arm, attached to an IV. A second was injected into her right leg, a local anesthetic to numb the foot and ankle. And a third was used to draw blood from her other arm, for testing. Once satisfied the anesthetic had spread, Hank put on gloves and began vigorously scrubbing at the wound, attacking it like a stubborn spot on a dish. After four scrubbings, he applied an antibiotic spray, and wrapped it carefully.

"Well." He said to Ororo and the girl, though he wasn't sure the girl understood. "I don't think there's any gangrene, we may have to do a skin graft, but I don't think we'll have to amputate, so long as we watch the infection closely. Looks like this IV is almost empty. Ororo, could I importune you to get another from Jean?"

"It's no trouble." Ororo said.

Some cots were set up and the girl set on one as her IV bag was switched out a couple times. She was brought a clean blanket and Ororo tucked her in as she laid down and fell asleep. Meanwhile, the mansion was a hive of activity.

Rooms were cleared out, beds set up, clean sheets and extra clothes found. Jean or Hank met with each of the mutants they'd freed. Some were given beds in the med ward, but the healthier ones were taken above and shown to rooms. The kitchen was busy with sandwich making and broths simmered for weaker stomachs. Even the youngest students of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters were eager to help their fellow mutants.

The new mutants were in a bit of shock, they wandered around, went outside, ate, showered, napped, cried. The professor approached each one and welcomed them.

Professor Xavier was especially worried about the girl. She hadn't spoken, and was obviously in worse shape than the others, but also, her mind wouldn't focus. He could only get fleeting emotions of fear and despair, mixed with an oppressive darkness. The glimpse Jean had seen and shared with him was also upsetting. He decided to put her in a ground floor room next to his study, so he could monitor her better. He asked Ororo to let the girl use one of his spare wheelchairs and take her upstairs, help her get cleaned up and settled. He wasn't sure if the girl would be upset at seeing Jean again.

Ororo, a warm and loving woman by nature, carefully helped the girl into the wheelchair and guided her to the room. It had a large window overlooking the grounds, and the girl stared, awestruck, reaching out to the glass. Ororo opened one of the window panels and smiled as the girl reached her hands out, feeling the soft evening breeze.

"How about a bath?" She asked. There was a small bathroom attached, she got the warm water started and slipped to the kitchen for a plastic bag and rubber bands, to cover the bandage with. The girl was still leaning on the window sill when she returned. Taking her into the bathroom, Ororo removed the girl's filthy prison garments. She held her breath when she saw the protruding bones and what looked like surgical scars all across the girl's shrunken stomach, but she couldn't hold back her gasp when she saw the girl's back. Folded flat against her spine, like a moth's, were wings. But underneath and all around them, the girl's back was a mass of scar tissue, multiple layers of new, raw red lines on top of old faded ones.

Pulling herself together, Ororo arranged the bag over the girl's foot and bandaged ankle, so they wouldn't get wet. The girl seemed to understand and kept it out of the water as she got into the tub and allowed Ororo to bathe her.

Realizing the girl's lack of weight meant she'd be cold, Ororo dressed her in sweats and cleaned her right foot with wipes since it couldn't be bathed. The girl was sleepy again, another symptom of starvation, so Ororo tucked her into the bed, closed the window and went to tell the professor what she'd discovered.


	2. Sleeping Arrangements

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men, this is my first fanfiction.  
**

**Thank you demonsimon and ZabuzasGirl for reviewing!**

**Chapter 2: Sleeping Arrangements**

In the morning, Hank looked in on the girl and found her curled up in a blanket on the floor by the window, one of the panels opened. He woke her gently, and was pleased when she didn't show any alarm. He changed the bandage on her ankle and helped her into the wheelchair before taking her to the kitchen, where he warmed some broth for her.

She took the cup he offered and sipped it carefully, then almost reverently. Her eyes were glued to the windows, she didn't seem to notice as others wandered into the kitchen.

Jean hesitated when she saw the girl, afraid yesterday's panic attack might be repeated. But the girl didn't show any sign of that happening. Jean reached out telepathically, and found the girl's thoughts were vague and her mind focused solely on the sight of the outdoors.

"It's a nice day, I think she'd like to go outside." Jean said. She approached the girl, who didn't react at all, and guided her chair out onto the back terrace.

It was the right thing to do. The girl tilted her head back, eyes closed, and breathed deeply. A hint of a smile touched her face and her mind projected profound joy at the feel of the sun on her skin. Jean couldn't help smiling widely in response. Nor could Professor Xavier inside the mansion, when he picked up on her thoughts.

Scott brought Jean her breakfast on the terrace and they discussed the day ahead. With so many people rescued, there was much to do. Classes had been cancelled, but it wasn't a holiday for the students. The professor, Hank, Jean, Ororo, and Scott would begin the difficult task of talking to everyone, learning their individual stories and tragedies. The rest of the staff, with students assisting, would provide tours of the school, show the grounds, begin interaction, and generally try to make everyone comfortable.

The professor, who had helped many others through shock and trauma, firmly believed in mental stimulation. The mind could only do so many things at one time. Taking a walk, and filling the mind with visual stimulation of the new surroundings, was passive, but effective. Simple entertainments, games, conversation, and reading also helped the mind to focus on the now, and not retreat into the past. The main thing was to nudge, but not push. To encourage, but allow their guests to respond at their own pace.

Some of the less patient mansion residents, like Jubilee, a bubbly young woman who was often referred to as "the firecracker" due to her personality as much as her mutation, were given different tasks.

Though the mansion always kept extra clothing and toiletries on hand, the pickings were getting slim. Jubilee was sent to town with a few others to pick out some nice clothes, personal items, and other supplies. A born shopper, Jubilee was in her element. Before leaving the mansion, she had a whole list on her iphone of how many men and women they'd be shopping for, approximate sizes, and a few personal notes on what colors and styles she thought would look best on whom. Her only disappointment was that Kitty was in charge of the credit card. Not that money was an issue for Xavier, he just knew someone needed to keep Jubilee from going overboard.

The younger and more shy students who wanted to help, but felt out of place, were given a special assignment. Jean and Hank had made individual nutrition plans for each "guest". The pantry needed to be assessed, meals planned and prepared. Rogue, a woman who was raised on southern food and hospitality, but had known hunger herself, was in charge of that group.

Logan was asked to help with the feral mutant they'd rescued. The man called himself Lynx. He was restless and Xavier knew he couldn't stay cooped up. Also knew to say he was welcome to come and go as he pleased, instead of asking him to stay close by. Logan's job was difficult. Xavier wanted him to keep an eye on the other feral, but be subtle about it. It meant stalking another predator, whose heightened senses were as good as his own, Logan relished the challenge.

Throughout the day, the girl remained on the terrace, always within someone's sight. She pulled up her sleeves to expose her arms to the light, moved the chair as the sun and shadows shifted, and sipped more broth as it was brought to her. For the most part she dozed. The other guests would sometimes nap as well, their emotional rollercoaster taking its toll.

That evening, the professor was very pleased. His staff and students had risen to the challenge and the minds of his guests were at ease. Even the feral Lynx, though he'd declined sleeping in the mansion, had asked to bed to down in a room off the stables. And the silent girl who'd enjoyed the sunlight almost religiously, had begun to focus on the faces around her.

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Hank and Ororo were the ones she started recognizing first. In the girl's mind, Hank's blue fur was assurance that she was with others of her own kind, mutants. This made her more relaxed when he treated her ankle instead of Jean, although she was warming up to the red head. Ororo was kindness and warmth, and when Ororo had shown the girl her private hothouse, she became associated with a sense of awe.

The slow awakening of her mind and growing awareness was fascinating for the professor.

Discoveries had been made. Files obtained from the complex and interviews with the rescued mutants had confirmed some of the X-men's worst fears. All sorts of experiments had been conducted. Genetic manipulation, new drugs, diseases, cures, new and theoretical medical procedures that weren't even in studies by the FDA yet. They'd been used as guinea pigs, often their individual mutations were of no interest to their captors, who were more interested in them as warm bodies. They'd been subjected to beatings and multiple indignities, often without warning. Many had fought back, attempted to escape. More had died than had been rescued.

It made the team's previous feelings of success bittersweet. But as the professor said, the ones they had saved were here now, needed their help now, and that was the most important.

The girl was carefully examined. Her wings were small and moth-like, both in their mottled grey and brown coloring, and the way they folded flat against her back. Fully extended, they went barely past her shoulder blades, so it wasn't certain if she could fly with them. Hank and Jean couldn't explain all the scar tissue on her back, but it was clear the rest were surgical scars.

In reviewing the files, it was determined the girl was referred to as "Wings" in the complex's lab and had been used for "extractions." Specifics about what had been done to her were missing. Hank theorized her information might be on the encrypted files. Jean shared with the professor what had happened when the girl was in the med ward. She'd been projecting abstract, but powerful emotions of fear, with vivid memories of pain, nausea, and images of tubes, doctors, machinery, and blood. It was scarily similar to Logan's nightmare memories.

Because a student with the ability to fly was already known as Wings, and it didn't seem right to use the same name her captors had used, it was agreed not to call her that. Interviews with the other mutants revealed they would only occasionally see each other in the lab or operating rooms, or catch glimpses as they were taken through hallways. No one recognized the thin girl with wings, or knew anything about her.

After days of sunshine, a steady rain came through. The girl was wheeled into the game room where most of the others were gathered. Perhaps it was because there were so many people that no one noticed when she left the room.

Classes had resumed and Ororo was monitoring a study hall in the library when one of the students said, "She's getting soaked." And pointed out one of the windows.

Taking a look, Ororo saw the girl was sitting outside looking just as comfortable in the rain as she had in the sunshine. Worried she would catch cold, Ororo hurried out and brought the girl into the library. A couple students giggled, but were quickly shushed. The girl let Ororo take her wet jacket off and looked around as one of the students was sent for a towel.

There was a display of fossils and minerals by the windows, the girl wheeled herself closer to them. Ororo gave her a quick rub with the towel, then returned to her desk, where she could keep an eye on her and the students.

Studying was resumed. The girl inspected everything in the display. There were fish, their skeletons preserved in stone, ancient leaves, most of a fern, a couple trilobites, a polished ammonite, pieces of quartz, choral, a moonstone. It seemed to Ororo the girl was looking at one thing in particular. When study hall ended, she went over and found the girl's breath had fogged the glass a little and she was gazing at a large chunk of amber.

Smiling, Ororo fetched the key and opened the case, taking the amber out. "Are you interested in it?" she asked.

The girl nodded, and it took Ororo a second to realize it was the first time the girl had responded to words as if she understood.

"Can you understand me?" she asked. The girl made no response. The professor had told them in their last briefing that the girl's mind was getting clearer, but still abstract, with no coherent thoughts. Still, Ororo wondered.

She held out the amber. It was a warm honey color and had a mosquito inside, the girl cautiously touched it. Ororo began explaining that it was actually resin from an ancient tree. Insects which had been caught in the sticky substance when it was flowing were kept intact after it had fossilized. The girl nodded again, just as if she understood.

Ororo leaned in close to her, catching the girl's attention. "Do you like it?" She asked slowly.

The girl's eyes focused on Ororo's mouth, she asked the question again. The girl looked at the amber, then back to Ororo, and nodded.

Ororo practically lit up. "You know, I think that would be a lovely name for you. Amber. Would you like to be called that?"

Again, the girl seemed to be focusing on the shape of Ororo's words as they left her mouth. Mentally, she shouted for the professor. Seconds later he was with her telepathically.

"Amber." Ororo repeated, touching first the fossil, then the girl's face. Slowly, the girl pointed to herself, opening and closing her mouth, forming the same word.

"She understands." The professor told Ororo. "And I think she likes it."

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"Amber" had taken a huge leap with her comprehension, and was mentally exhausted. She fell asleep in her chair and Hank put her to bed.

Ororo was excited to share this new development with everyone. It was just the thing to reinvigorate their efforts with the other mutants. She checked on Amber after supper, and found her in what had become her normal sleeping habit. On the floor, in a blanket, next to the opened window.

The rain had stopped, but left the air much cooler. Ororo closed the window, picked up Amber's light body, and tucked her into bed. Very tightly.

Before going to bed herself, Ororo checked again, and sure enough, Amber had wriggled out, opened the window, and gone to sleep on the floor.

Ororo sighed so dramatically, it made Logan stop as he was walking by.

"What's wrong?" He asked, stepping into the room.

"She's going to make herself sick." Ororo explained as once again, she closed the window and tucked the girl in, this time pulling the blankets as taught as possible before shoving the edges under the mattress. She started to leave, then turned back, frowning.

Logan chuckled.

"It's not funny." Ororo told him. "Hank said her bloodwork came back lacking in nutrients and there was some chemical he couldn't identify. If she gets even a little sick she could be in trouble."

Logan tried to keep from rolling his eyes. No shit she was lacking in nutrients, he thought. The girl had been _starving_ to death. And it was hard for him to be too worried considering she'd survived the dark cell he'd found her in.

Still, Logan knew enough to keep his thoughts to himself. "Lynx is pretty nocturnal. We've been hanging out at night. I'll check up on her."

He was rewarded with one of Ororo's beautiful smiles.

It hadn't been long before the two ferals got into a fight, it had been inevitable. They'd had a really great brawl and while Lynx didn't have Logan's experience or healing powers, he'd given as well as he got. The two now had a grudging respect for each other.

After running the school perimeter and shooting the breeze, the two decided to go on a run. Logan noticed an open window though, and said he'd be right back.

The blankets were still tucked tight enough to bounce a quarter off them. He figured she must've slid out the top part by her pillow. Remembering the cell, he didn't blame her for wanting to keep the window open. So leaving the window alone, he picked her up, tugged the blankets loose, and put her back in the bed.

The run had taken them a couple miles past the lake at the edge of Xavier's property. After that Logan and Lynx had sparred some. When they came back, Logan offered the other man a beer and went to check on Amber.

He'd left the window open, hoping that would be enough, but there she was on the floor again. Chuckling, he figured they may as well let her have her way. He put an extra blanket over her and went back to his beer.


	3. Discoveries

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men, Marvel and Stan the Man do.**

**Thank you Jessywhisper for reviewing! ^_^**

**Chapter 3: Discoveries**

There was something odd about Amber's ankle as it started to heal. The infection seemed to have gone away, but Hank thought there was a strange smell. It wasn't putrid or rotten. At first he thought it was from some chemical she'd been injected with in the complex. There were traces of something he couldn't identify in her blood.

While taking a walk through the woods around Xavier's school, his nose twitched, and a thought occurred to him. He stepped closer to one of the trees and inhaled. His thoughts abuzz, he hurried back to the mansion.

Amber was outside as usual, observing some of the students play basketball. He hoped to have her out of the wheelchair soon, but didn't want her putting any weight on her right ankle yet.

"Hello my dear." He greeted her, and she smiled. Crouching by her ankle, he carefully undid the bandage he'd put on that morning. Lifting it to his nose, he took a whiff. Nodding to himself, he rewrapped the ankle, but kept some of the gauze that had been against the wound. Then he went looking for Logan.

Logan was weight-lifting in the gym. Hank waited until he'd finished his set.

"Ya need something, Hank?" Logan asked.

"Yes my friend, a second opinion of sorts."

Logan raised his eyebrows as the blue mutant held out the gauze to him. "Smell this."

Logan took a whiff. "It's from that girl, right? Amber, I think is what Storm's calling her?"

"Yes, yes, but what_ exactly_ can you smell?"

"Well she smells _healthier_, you get rid of that infection?"

Hank sighed and closed his eyes. It would be so easy just to come out and ask, but he wanted to verify this without putting any suggestions into the other man's mind.

He spoke carefully, "If you were to describe, so others could understand, what she smells like? What would you say it makes you think of?"

Logan really couldn't tell what Hank was getting at, but he took a deeper smell and thought hard. "Clean, a little bit of soap, the ointment you've been putting on, and underneath…a little woodsy? Kinda sweet, but not like candy. More like honey…and trees?"

"Like tree sap?" Hank asked.

"Yeah." Logan nodded. "I mean it's not like pine sap, it's not that sharp. More like an oak or maple maybe."

Hank was grinning. "Yes, I thought so too." He took the gauze back, then turned and left, leaving Logan to wonder what it was all about.

Armed with swabs, a petri dish, and fresh bandages, Hank changed the dressings on Amber's ankle again. He swabbed the wound carefully, then went to his lab, in search of a microscope. Later, he pulled out her blood sample.

"I am truly sorry to keep bothering you my dear." He apologized to Amber as he approached her once again. This time she was with Rogue outside the kitchen, helping shell peas while Rogue chattered on about her boyfriend Remy.

Amber only smiled at him and shifted to extend her ankle out, but Hank shook his head. "I wanted to swab your cheek this time."

She looked at him, her eyebrows drawn together. The professor had shared that while she was starting to understand what they said more and more each day, she was still easily confused.

Hank held up his cotton swab, opened his mouth wide, and pointed at her.

Understanding flickered in her eyes and she opened her mouth so Hank could swab the inside of her cheek. She smiled again as he thanked her and went back to shelling peas.

After supper, the X-men met for a team meeting. Xavier wanted to keep everyone up to date with the status of their rescued guests.

Xavier could tell Hank was eager to share something, so he asked him to start.

"It's Amber." Hank began. "Or rather Amber's cells. Some of them are block-shaped, because they have a cell wall, and I've identified the substance in her blood, it's chlorophyll!" He looked around, expectantly.

Ororo was the first to look surprised, followed by Jean, the others were giving him blank expressions. He sighed and began to elaborate.

"Only plant cells have a cell wall, the rigidity of which causes most to look rectangular. Animal cells have a membrane, which allows for more irregular shapes. Chlorophyll is only found in plant cells, it allows them to turn sunlight into nutritional energy through a process called photosynthesis."

"So you're saying what? She's like a plant girl or something?" Jubilee asked.

Hank shrugged. "Not exactly, most of her cells are normal. Normal animal cells, I should say. Her blood is red, while chlorophyll is green. What's really miraculous is that the plant cells are co-existing with the animal cells. The only explanation is that it's part of her mutation."

Logan was looking thoughtful. "Is that why they kept her in the dark?" He asked.

Hank turned to him, "What do you mean?"

"There were no lights in her cell, or in the hall outside. Was keeping her in the dark another way of starving her?"

"A very astute observation." Hank said. "I hadn't thought of that."

A few faces gaped at Logan, but they quickly looked away when he growled. _I may be a canucklehead, but I'm not stupid_, he thought.

"No wonder she enjoys the sun so much." Jean mused.

"Would a grow lamp help her?" Ororo asked.

Hank replied that he wasn't sure, but he'd add it to the list of things he wanted to try with her.

The meeting moved on to the other rescues.

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The next morning was sunny, so Hank decided to put one of his theories to the test.

Instead of applying a new bandage to Amber's ankle, he left it bare and took her out onto the terrace. He elevated her foot on a bench to better expose her wound to the sun. Speaking slowly, he asked her not to move it, and she nodded in understanding.

After half an hour, Hank returned to check on her, and there seemed to be no difference. After another half hour he noticed her strange sap smell was stronger. He wasn't terribly concerned since he now understood it to be part of Amber's unique physiology, chlorophyll mixed with white blood cells in the healing tissue.

He swabbed the site for a fresh sample and took it to his lab. Beneath the microscope, there seemed to be a few more plant cells than previously. Their co-existence with the other cells still amazed him. In theory, the white blood cells should have responded to the plant cells as foreign matter and attacked, but they didn't.

Leaving the lab, Hank was waylaid. First, a student who'd been struggling in his physics class had a question. He was a quiet boy with trust issues, so Hank, realizing how important this simple ask for help was, didn't hesitate to give his full attention.

After the boy had thanked him for his help, Jean approached him. One of the rescues was running a fever and she needed help running tests immediately in case it was something serious. After they'd determined it was nothing to worry about and would resolve with rest, Hank realized it had been hours since he'd last checked on Amber.

Hank hurried to the terrace, he hadn't meant to leave her alone for so long. He began apologizing sincerely as he approached her, then stopped and stared at her ankle.

There seemed to be something on Amber's wound. Looking closely, he saw it was fibrous and stringy, reminding him distinctly of corn silk. And it appeared to be growing across the wound from the surrounding skin.

"Oh my stars and garters." He whispered.

Hurrying back inside, Hank gathered some bandages and medical scissors. He cut a few of the fibers from Amber's ankle, then wrapped it up and asked if she'd had lunch yet. Feeling guilty when she shook her head, he took her into the kitchen and prepared a soft meal for her. He hoped to have her on harder foods soon. His own stomach growling, he fixed himself a sandwich and ate.

Returning to the lab, he studied the fibers he'd collected. They consisted primarily of plant cells, with the animal cells in minority, which was completely new, and a strange cycle seemed to be going on. The plant cells would divide energetically, crowding the animal cells, then the animal cells would begin dividing slowly, and the surrounding plant cells would stop dividing.

He shared his findings with Jean during supper that night, and they decided to have another look at Amber's ankle together. Unwrapping the bandage, he noted the sap smell had lessened to normal, and the fibers looked different, not as thick now and more like a fine netting over the wound.

Taking another sample down into the lab, they observed the fibers were now mostly made up of animal cells, whereas the plant cells had stopped dividing and most were actually dying.

Jean and Hank began exchanging theories excitedly. Obviously, exposure to the sun had triggered the reaction. Probably using photosynthesis, the plant cells had become extremely active and started growing the fibers, which had covered the wound. After the wound had been bandaged again, the plant cells began to die, leaving more fragile fibers made up of animal cells behind.

The questions and hypotheses began to fly. Once deprived of the sun, how quickly had the plant cells begun to die? If left alone in the sun for longer, what would have happened? Since the plant cells from Hank's first sample would stop dividing, would they have died off anyways? Was this a part of her special physiology's healing process? A sort of botanical scab? Would the end result be scar tissue? Had the surgical scars from the complex reacted the same way? Or the scars on her back? Did her captors cut her back and expose her to the sun to observe this process? The excitement they had initially felt began to die as Jean and Hank began thinking about what horrible things must have happened to Amber because of this amazing phenomenon.

In the morning, Hank and Jean went to the professor. They wanted to expose Amber's wound to the sun and take samples throughout the day to better understand the process. But they were concerned how she would feel about being experimented on after her experiences. Xavier assured them he would monitor her thoughts and advise them should she start to be uncomfortable.

Tracking down Amber, they found her exploring the outside of the mansion. After explaining what they wanted, she was willing to sit in the sun all day for them, she preferred being outside whenever possible, but the professor sensed she was beginning to be bored with sitting still in the wheelchair.

She still wasn't speaking, but her thoughts were focused and more coherent, and she was starting to telepathically speak in sentences with the professor. He hadn't pressed her with questions, her mind would instinctively shy away and throw up walls whenever any mention of the complex was made. He would let her take her time. Telepathically, he apologized for the inconvenience and asked if she enjoyed reading, if he could find a good book from the library she could occupy herself with during the day?

Telepathically she replied, _I love…books. I used to read…so much._

_What kind of books do you enjoy the most, my dear?_

A whirl of thoughts went through her mind, and the professor received the impression that she enjoyed all genres, mysteries, classics, westerns, fantasy, so long as they were well-written.

_I think…I'd like something funny. Like Douglas Adams._

_I think I can arrange that. _The professor smiled at her and went off to the library.

After Hank and Jean had arranged her on the terrace with her ankle exposed to the sun and taken their first sample of tissue from the wound, Xavier returned with two books.

Speaking aloud, he told her he'd brought Douglas Adams' well known _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_, and another book, _Hogfather_ by Terry Pratchett.

She'd never read Terry Pratchett, but the professor assured her if she enjoyed the humor of Douglas Adams, she'd probably enjoy him as well. She opened _Hogfather _first, since she hadn't read it. She read slowly at first, it had been a long time since she'd had anything to read. Her mind felt a little wobbly at times and she had to re-read a few sentences. She decided to take a break at the end of the first chapter, but after a while, she began looking for the chapter end, and was surprised to find there were no chapters. Only line breaks throughout the book. So she took a break at one of those.

She was wishing she had a bookmark, not wanting to bend the page, when Jean came to take another sample. Jean wasn't as powerful a telepath as Xavier, but she could sense Amber wanted something.

"Do you need anything?" She asked.

Amber nodded, and concentrating hard, she thought the word "_bookmark" _to Jean.

Jean was surprised, and delighted, having never spoken to Amber this way. She fetched a small slip of paper from the kitchen for her to use, and smiling, went back to the lab with the tissue sample.

It was a very funny book, and Amber was glad the professor had picked it. A fantastic and imaginative world, so very different from her own, she escaped into it gladly. She was smiling as she read, and barely noticed Hank or Jean as they continued to take samples from her ankle throughout the day.

At lunchtime, Logan passed her as he walked into the kitchen, and noticed her smile. He had to grin himself as he fixed his lunch. She was still dangerously thin, but looking much better, her skin taking a warm color, less pale and sickly, and the stubble of dark hair on her head covering her scalp more.

He sat on the terrace as he ate and glanced over at Amber when she started fidgeting at the edge of his vision. Her mouth was open and her body shook, he was alarmed at first, but he could see she looked happy. After a few moments he realized she was laughing, but there was no sound coming out. She glanced up at him and smiled apologetically, tapping the pages of the book in her hands.

"Is it a good read?" He asked.

She nodded, holding it up.

He recognized the title, Rogue had made him watch a TV movie based on the book last Christmas with a bunch of the students who didn't have homes to go back to during the holidays. He thought it had been silly, and magical fantasies _really_ weren't his thing, but he became interested despite himself, and there were a couple times when he'd laughed out loud. He really liked how the main character told the children she was taking care of not to get scared, but to get angry, and then beat some monsters up with a poker. And he liked towards the end, when the characters discussed how compassion and justice could only exist if people believed in them.

"I've seen the movie." He told her. "Have you reached the part where he gives the little girl a sword?"

Amber nodded.

"And her mom freaks out that she'll cut herself? And he says, 'It'll be an important lesson'?"

Amber nodded some more, smiling widely, and looking like she might giggle if she could. Logan chuckled as he picked up the trash from his lunch.

"Yeah, I liked that too." He said with a smile as he left her to her book.

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During supper that night, Ororo sat next to Amber. "You look good today, what have you been up to?"

Amber held up the book she'd tucked next to her in the wheelchair.

"Is it good?" She asked.

Amber nodded with emphasis.

Ororo smiled, "I wish you could tell me about it. You've been doing so well. Have you tried talking yet?"

Amber looked at her with surprise, and a little bit of sadness crept into her face as she shook her head.

"I'm sure you could if you tried."

Another shake of the head, then Amber tapped her throat, and pointed at her mouth.

"What?" Ororo asked.

Amber's brow furrowed, then she held out her hand, making a scissoring gesture with her fingers. She opened her mouth, pointing into it, then made the scissoring gesture again.

Ororo felt cold as realization dawned on her. She turned to look for Jean or Hank. She found Hank first, and called him over. She whispered her thoughts to him and he blinked, looking at Amber with concern.

"When you're done eating, would you meet me in my lab?" He asked her. Amber tensed at the word 'lab'. "The kitchen, then?" She nodded.

In the kitchen, Hank asked if he could lift her onto the counter, under one of the brighter lights. She nodded her head. He asked her to tilt her head back and open her mouth wide. Holding a small mirror, like a dentist's, and a small light, he took a look down Amber's throat. After asking her to swallow a couple times, he removed the mirror and told her she could close her mouth. "I'm so sorry my dear." He said sadly as he lifted her down.

Quite a few of the X-men had noticed something was up during supper. They had an impromptu meeting and Hank revealed that the reason Amber didn't speak wasn't just a result of mental trauma, her vocal cords had been cut.

According to Hank, there was also a lot of scar tissue in her throat. It was similar to the tissue forming over her ankle. Swallowing harder foods would probably be painful for her. With surgery, he could excise some of the scar tissue to make her more comfortable, and there was a remote possibility he could do something about the vocal cords, but there were no guarantees. She might always be mute.

The X-men were stunned. They all knew from stories the other rescues had told them that besides the experiments, their captors at the complex had regularly beaten, abused, and even tortured them. Many of their tormentors had delighted in making them scream. Why they would want to make Amber mute was a total mystery.

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It was raining the next day and Rogue was playing piano in the music room.

Amber came in and seemed to enjoy her renditions of Beethoven's Fur Elise and Moonlight Sonata. Rogue asked her if she could play, and Amber nodded shyly.

"How about you play 'Heart and Soul' with me?" Rogue asked in her southern accent.

Amber nodded again and Rogue watched as she got up slowly from the wheelchair and onto the piano bench, trying not to put much weight on her right ankle. Rogue had to smile at her progress.

After Heart and Soul, Amber played a few keys, her expression thoughtful. Rogue sat back as she began to play a soft melody, becoming more confident as she played.

Down the hall, some of the other rescues were in the game room. By the door, a white haired woman named Chloe heard the music and asked the others to shush. They heard the song and began exchanging glances. Slowly, they followed the sound and stood staring at Amber as she played. Other X-men and a couple students who didn't have a class were curious what it was about. The professor had picked up on their thoughts while talking with Logan and the two men came out of his study.

When the song ended, Chloe stood crying. Her husband David held her closely. "You're the singer." She said softly. Logan recognized them as the man and woman he'd spoken to at the complex, just before he'd found Amber.

Chloe went over to Amber, "You're her, aren't you? You used to sing, to sing at night. When everyone was crying."

Amber looked up at her with a sad expression, and nodded once.

Chloe threw her arms around Amber and many others crowded close to hug her. David soon explained to Xavier that late at night in the complex, people would be crying, sobbing, overwhelmed with their despair more than usual. Then a woman would start singing. They never saw her, but she had been down the hall from him and Chloe. Her soft voice would carry down the hallways, comforting the other prisoners. She'd sing different songs, sometimes a request would be called out and passed along. There was one song in particular she sang the most, about love, and suffering, and asking God for another day, a better day, and holding on through the pain. That was the song Amber had played on the piano. One night, the guards had interrupted while she was singing, and they never heard her again. The assumption was that they'd killed the singer.

One of the students had been talking to Chloe and checking her ipad, she looked up the lyrics Chloe could remember and found the song online. The room grew quiet as it began to play, then Amber started mouthing the words, and a few started singing along, "Hold on, hold on to yourself, for this is gonna hurt like hell."

"I see." Xavier said softly, "They cut her vocal cords so she couldn't sing, couldn't give the others hope."

Logan had been standing next to Xavier, he turned and went to the lower levels. In the Danger Room he started tearing holographic enemies apart. He remembered Amber smiling and laughing over her book, without making a sound. The thought that someone would do that, would take away the sound of her laughter, and her voice, because they didn't want her singing, didn't want her _singing_ in that hellhole, to try and comfort others, it made him insanely furious. It was people like that which made it impossible for the Wolverine to regret killing so many at the complex.

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Remy, sometimes known as Gambit, had been away from the mansion. Xavier had given him the encrypted files from the complex. It would have been dangerous to try and unencrypt them at the school, in case they sent out a tracer. Remy had a very shady background, and shady friends too, but the professor trusted him to return with the files unencrypted without putting the school at risk.

When Remy came back, the first thing he did was find Rogue and kiss her passionately, then he murmured in her ear with his Cajun accent what he'd like to do with her later. He gave the USB drive with the files to Logan, who had been talking with Rogue when Remy walked in and was rolling his eyes at them now.

Logan grunted and took the files to Xavier. He had mixed feelings about the Cajun and Rogue. Rogue was special to him, but not in a sexual way. She'd had a crush on Logan for years and he'd cared enough about her to not want to hurt her feelings. So he was happy for her when she'd started dating, first Bobby, and then Remy. Bobby was a good guy, but too tame for her. Remy was wild and adventurous. Logan had made it clear he thought she deserved better, and if Remy ever hurt Rogue, he'd be shish kabob.

On the other hand, Rogue's mutation made her absorb people's memories, mutant powers, and life force when she touched them. She hadn't been able to control it and almost killed the first boy she'd kissed. For a long time she thought she'd never be able to touch people, not even for a handshake or a hug, but then she met Remy, and Remy loved a challenge. He'd gambled with his own life helping Rogue learn control, and a part of Logan would be always grateful to the Cajun for that.

The contents of the encrypted files were discussed at the next team meeting. They contained information about the complex's most ambitious experiments. They'd been trying to find a cure for cancer. They had exposed mutants to radiation and other hazardous materials, trying not only to cause cancer, but to pinpoint its inception and track its growth. Then they had tried to treat and even cure it, but in the end, nothing worked. They'd only succeeded in giving people cancer. All the subjects had died, either from the disease or the attempts to cure it. The complex had been about to choose a new group of test subjects when the X-men had arrived.

There was also information about Amber.

As Hank and Jean had deduced from their test samples, the plant cells in her body would work with the animal cells to heal injuries. Given sunlight, the plant cells would kick into overdrive and grow a fibrous tissue over her wounds. Then the plant cells would slow down and the animal cells start growing, transforming the fibrous tissue into a more fleshy substance, leaving her wounds healed with scar tissue.

Sunlight was the key. The more sunlight, the faster and better she'd heal. The scar tissue even seemed to reduce and fade with sunlight. Jean had given her a halter top and shorts so she could expose as much of her scarring to the sun as possible. The scars were still there, but the reduction in their appearance was remarkable.

The doctors and scientists at the complex had discovered this and used her for all sorts of experiments. At one point they had amputated her wings, and been surprised when the wings grew back under the grow lamps. They had attempted to graft the wings onto another mutant, but it didn't work. They'd amputated her wings several times and repeated the attempts, but it never worked. They quit using the grow lamps on her back, and the wings had regrown much slower. Eventually, the doctors would just cut her wings off if they were in the way.

Another time, one of the cancer subjects had kidney failure. Her response to treatment had been the most successful so far, so they had taken one of Amber's kidneys for a transplant. The subject died later from the treatments, and it was discovered Amber had grown a replacement kidney.

That was when things turned really sick. They had compared her with a rose bush, cut it down, and it keeps growing back. They had severed fingers and measured their regrowth, both with and without light. They had harvested organs for transplanting. The plant cells would die out quickly after a transplant, which sometimes killed the receiving patient, but if they could hold on, it was usually successful. After that, they had harvested organs again and again, had started selling them. As these "extractions" continued, they had started skimping on anesthesia and pain meds.

In desperation, Amber had tried to escape, had in fact got past the guards twice by using her wings to fly out her cell door when opened. That's when they put the cuff on her right ankle and started chaining her to the wall.

Before the X-men came, they had started a series of tests to measure her ability to recover from starvation. They'd starve her for a longer period of time with each test, and as Logan had guessed, all light had been removed from her cell and the hallway to deprive the plant aspects of her as well.

According to the dates, she'd been there for three years, which was longer than the other rescues. There was no mention of her real name, where she came from, or how she got there, just a few statements that she was female, with brown hair, brown eyes, wings, and that the "girl" the X-men had all thought she was, was twenty-two when she arrived at the complex.

**xxxxxx**

**Author's note: The song is "Hold On" by Sarah McLachlan. This chapter was longer than expected, if you took the time to read it all, please take a moment to put "good job" or something in the review box below. This is my first story and I need the encouragement!**


	4. Healing

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men, do ya **_**think **_**I own the X-men?!**

**Thank you Jessywhisper, Jinx of the 2****nd**** Law, StarlitStar, and Guinessia for reviewing! I pushed myself to get this chapter out tonight because of all of you!**

**Chapter 4: Healing**

The rescued mutants were beginning to transition back into society. The X-men would take them into town for short trips, first to open parks with few people, then slowly into more crowded areas and shops. They were very careful in case the rescues became overwhelmed, and would leave immediately at any sign of panic.

The feral Lynx, after a few outings, decided he'd rather go into the mountains on his own. Xavier gave him a truck and keys to a cabin in Wyoming, although there was no guarantee the man would go there.

The others began to think about where they'd like to go. Some had family and friends who they desperately wanted to see again. However, the professor wanted to make sure it was safe. Most of them had been kidnapped or tricked, and he knew that sadly, some of them had been betrayed by loved ones, whom they may not suspect even now.

Therefore, the X-men had a new mission: investigating the circumstances of these abductions. Finding out who had helped the complex, and why, and if there were other accomplices or loose ends they should know about.

Of course, the professor made it clear they were all welcome to stay indefinitely. But only a few who were young and interested in attending the school to finish their education took his offer. The rest, though grateful, were beginning to want their independence. Xavier was in contact with friends all over the world who could act as hosts and help them build new lives. With so many options available, the rescues became excited about their future.

As for Amber, she had a telepathic conversation with Xavier and told him she felt safe at the mansion and wished to stay, to heal, and to work. She was insistent that she be allowed to help in some way. The professor would never make her earn her keep, but he knew she would benefit from having a meaningful job to do and sense of purpose.

He made an agreement with her that once she was out of the wheelchair, she could help with the stables. The main reason Xavier kept horses wasn't for the luxury, but for therapeutic value. Abuse was not uncommon in the mutants who had come to his school over the years. Many of them had found solace in caring for the horses, in giving the animals what they wished had been given to themselves.

An eager Amber began walking more. Hank became worried lest she overdo it and cause a new injury to her right ankle, which was mostly healed, but still weak.

Logan was enjoying a cigar on the terrace when Amber came walking out of the kitchen. She gave him a smile as she headed slowly towards the steps leading onto the grounds, favoring her ankle.

Hank came running out after her. "My dear!" He called, his expression distressed. "At least take a crutch to support yourself, and don't go too far! What if you get tired? If you'll wait, I'm sure I can accompany you in an hour."

She smiled at Hank as he continued to stress the dangers of overexerting herself, then she glanced at Logan and rolled her eyes. Logan grinned.

Looking back to Hank, she put her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. When he quieted down, she unzipped and shrugged off the light hoodie she'd been wearing, turned her back to him, and fluttered her small wings through the hole in her tank top.

Smiling over her shoulder, Amber went up a few feet in the air, turned, then stopped her wings and held them open, floating back to the ground, where she landed gently on her left foot.

Hank was surprised into silence. He knew from the files Remy had unencrypted that she could fly, but he'd wondered how it could be done with her wings so small. Now as she flew down from the terrace onto the grass, he observed the motion of her wings. He realized that while they looked like a moth's, their movements were more like a humming bird's and their speed made up for their size. In fact the wings moved so rapidly they were almost invisible and he could hear them softly whirring.

Logan had to laugh, partly at Hank's face, and partly at Amber's actions. Ororo had told him she still slept by the open window in her room and he had to admire her stubbornness.

"Well…" Hank said. "I suppose if she gets tired she can fly back. But what if her wings get tired? Logan, I have a class to teach, could you..?"

"She'll be fine." Logan told him. "But if she's not back in half an hour I'll track her down."

Hank thanked him and went back inside.

After a half hour had passed, Logan walked towards the woods where he'd last seen Amber. He wasn't worried and he didn't hurry, he was just keeping his word to Hank. He found her scent along one of the trails and followed it. Sometimes her scent went off the trail, but then returned. It wasn't long before he spotted her, sitting in a tree just off the path. He watched as she slipped out of the tree, dropping just a bit before her wings picked her up and carried her to another tree. She did this a few more times, ignoring the trail below and heading directly towards the school, one tree at a time. He followed until she came down to the ground and started walking again, then he called out and joined her.

She smiled at him as they headed back to the school in silence. Logan noticed Amber walked quietly, and not just because she walked slow, she kept her steps light, avoided twigs that might snap underfoot, gently moved branches out of her way, and just as gently let them go. You'd think the woods were covered in carpet, she walked so softly. Logan was a quiet man himself, he didn't understand why some people could never shut up, why they couldn't stand five minutes of enjoying another's company without talking. He was enjoying Amber's quiet when he remembered why she was mute, then he swore at himself.

He glanced at her and wondered if, before the complex, she had talked much. He had a hard time imagining her as a chatterbox.

"You miss being able to talk?" He asked her.

She nodded, but held her fingers up in a gesture meaning "a little".

"Not a big talker before, huh?"

A shake of the head and a smile.

"Still, be easier wouldn't it? I don't talk much either, but it'd be a pain to go into a bar and order a drink with a notepad instead of just telling them."

Another smile and a nod. Amber had a notepad and pen for communicating, but rarely used them. In fact she often forgot to keep them with her. She'd told Jean telepathically she didn't have much to say anyways.

"You going ahead with the surgery?" He asked. He knew Hank and Jean had been talking to her about removing the scar tissue from her throat and seeing what they could do about her vocal cords.

She nodded again, looking worried.

"Still scared of the room?"

A huge nod for emphasis. She'd been slowly facing her fear of the medical ward with Hank and Jean's help. First by going into the lower levels and just looking into the room, before quickly heading back to the elevator. After doing that a few times, she stepped into Hank's lab, which was smaller and didn't have any gurneys, just lots of equipment and work counters. But she couldn't step into the med ward yet, she'd tried, and her flight or fight instincts had kicked in. While a part of her knew it wasn't the same room, it wasn't at the complex, and they weren't going to experiment or torture, that Hank and Jean were friends and wanted to help her, the rest of her couldn't forget the three years at the complex. Like a reflex or a muscle memory, her heart would race and her hands shake when she came near the threshold, everything in her screaming to run.

"You know," Logan said, "I was in a lab once, still have nightmares about it."

Amber stopped and stared at him, shock on her face.

"Yeah, I woke up downstairs in that room when I first came here. Total panic, I almost ripped Jean's head off." He frowned at the memory. He still regretted it, he had apologized to Jean, but she had brushed the incident off like it was nothing.

Amber reached for his hand and squeezed it, which took him by surprise, the Wolverine was definitely _not_ the hand-holding type. "Still makes me nervous sometimes, but you gotta decide who's stronger, you or the room."

He let go of her hand and looked at her. "So what's it gonna be?"

Her worried eyes met his, then she held up her arm and flexed her small biceps, giving him a smile.

Logan chuckled and when they came in sight of the school, he chuckled again at Hank. The large blue man was on the terrace looking like a worried mother hen.

"Did you get tired my dear?" Hank asked Amber.

She shook her head.

"You don't need to worry so much, she's tougher than she looks." Logan told him, and Amber smiled widely in agreement.

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After the surgery, Amber was recovering in her room. The anesthesia made her groggy. Jean and Hank were very proud of her, she'd needed deep breaths and taken tiny baby steps, but she had walked herself into the med ward and sat on the gurney before they took her into the operating room.

The professor was sitting with her, reading from a favorite book of his, _The Once and Future King. _He detected that Amber was thirsty, so when he came to a stopping point he asked if she'd care for tea. She nodded her head, and he left for the kitchen, returning soon after with a tray and two cups. He had earl grey for himself and chamomile with a honey straw for her, knowing her throat would be swollen and sore after surgery.

As they were enjoying their tea, she began to think about Logan, and asked the professor a question with her mind. He decided the best person to answer the question would be Logan himself, so he reached out telepathically and found the man opening a beer in the kitchen. He asked Logan to join them, inviting him to bring his beer, since he and Amber already had drinks of their own.

Logan came in to Amber's room feeling confused, then he saw the tea cups and smiled. "Nice one Chuck." He said as he gave a salute with his beer bottle. "Whatcha need me for?"

"Amber had a question about you, and I thought it best you answer it yourself. It's about the lab you were in."

Logan took a slow pull from his beer. "What d'you wanna know?"

Amber looked at the professor, her brows furrowed.

"She says you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, she herself hates to even think about the complex."

Logan nodded, "I'll tell you what I can, I don't normally talk about it, but…since you were in the same sorta hellhole..."

Amber gave a sad smile, then looked at the professor. He cleared his throat, then told Logan, "She says, and I quote: Hell of a thing to have in common."

Logan barked a laugh, partly from the statement, and partly from it coming out of Xavier's mouth.

He could tell they were having a telepathic conversation and Amber gave him an apologetic look, then the professor turned to him and said, "Amber's given me an idea, rather than me translate what she wants to say, I could telepathically connect with both of you. Then you could hear her yourself."

"Can you do that?"

"Yes, but I don't do it often, it can be disorienting, and some people can't focus, they let their thoughts reveal more than they mean to."

Logan thought about it. "Go ahead."

The professor got a faraway look in his eyes.

"_Hello?" _Logan heard a woman's voice in his head.

"Amber? Did you just say hello to me?"

She smiled. "_Yes, am I coming through clear? Or too loud?"_

"Nah, you're just fine." He said, and he thought to himself how soft her voice was, just like the way she had walked in the woods. Amber blushed and he remembered what the Professor said about revealing thoughts, so he quickly tried to focus.

"What'd you wanna ask me?"

"_In the woods, you said you were in a lab too, and it surprised me. You're so strong, I can't imagine you being in a place like I was. I was wondering how they caught you, and if the X-men rescued you too?_"

He snorted, "The X-men didn't rescue me, I broke out and escaped. As to how they caught me, I dunno. I can't remember anything from before then. Even my escape is hazy. We found the place where I was experimented on, and the guy who ran it." He gritted his teeth at the memory of William Stryker. "He told me I was a volunteer, but I didn't trust the guy. He was psychotic. Attacked the mansion and took some of the kids." He gritted his teeth again, this time remembering the soldiers he'd gutted in the very hallway outside.

Amber looked horrified and Logan immediately felt bad, she didn't need to be seeing those memories. He was about to ask Xavier to stop the connection when he heard, "_It's not that, you were protecting your family! But the children! Did you get them back?!"_

"Of course darlin'." He said, and felt her relief in his mind as he watched it flow across her face. Then she looked nervously at the door behind him, and again at the open window. Through the connection, he could tell she was imagining soldiers coming for her in the night. Debating whether or not to start closing her window, the thought of which she hated.

Her eyes focused on his and she started to ask, "_What did they…"_ Then stopped.

"Yeah?"

Amber swallowed. _"I was going to ask what they did to you, but you don't have to answer."_

He shrugged, "They put the adamantium in me." He extended his claws.

She looked at them appreciatively. "_I think I remember, you used those to cut my chains off, right?"_

"Yeah."

She beamed at him. "_THANK YOU, Logan!"_

"It wasn't a big deal." But he couldn't help smiling back.

"_Did the adamantium help you escape?"_

"Yeah, I think so. I'd rather have my memories back, but…I don't really regret having it, just the way it was done to me." Broken memories of people looking at him, clinking champagne glasses while he screamed in a tank of water flashed by. Then other memories hit him of bright lamps, cold metal, tight straps around wrists and ankles, scalpels and blood dripping on a floor, into a drain, while people in surgeon masks chatted about sports or played a radio. Then it was like a wall went up in his mind.

"_Sorry." _She was looking at her lap, and he realized those other memories must have been hers. "_Sometimes, I think the worst part was how they made me feel like a thing, a bug. Like it didn't matter if I could feel pain." _She looked up at him with a haunted expression in her eyes that bothered him more than tears would have. "_Hell of a thing to have in common."_

"Yeah darlin', but remember, we lived. They didn't, I killed them all." He smiled grimly at her and she grimly smiled back.

There was a tap at the door as Hank came to check on Amber. The professor warned them he was breaking the telepathic connection. "_Maybe I'll talk to you again, with my voice." _Amber told him.

"I'd like that." He replied, then he noticed she was looking nervously at the open window again. "And don't worry, you can leave your window open. Anybody tries to attack this school again, I'll rip them in half."

Hank gave him a shocked look, but Amber just threw her head back in a silent laugh.

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Jean and Scott were away, helping some of the rescues meet up with their families, the ones who truly had loving families that had looked for them after they disappeared. Later, they would help the rescues who'd been betrayed by their families confront them if they wished.

Hank stayed behind to cover Jean's classes and work with Amber. He had her doing throat exercises, similar to what singers do. The only difference was her silence. He warned her not to be discouraged, that it would take time for the muscles to strengthen before she could make any sound, also swelling from the surgery would make it hard at first.

Every day he looked down her throat, and was pleased to see she was healing well, with no new scar tissue forming.

About a week after surgery, Hank had woken up and was dressing for the day, when he smelled Amber outside his door. Concerned, he opened it to find her grinning and bouncing on her toes, her wings fluttering with excitement. Before he could speak, she pointed to her open mouth and a whisper soft "Ah, ah, ah" came out.

"My dear!" He exclaimed, smiling so all his teeth showed. He was so delighted he picked her up in a huge hug, and she squeezed him back.

All that morning she was practically dancing as she fluttered about, whispering vowel sounds "Ah, ee, oh" as she brushed the horses and cleaned their stalls.

At lunch time though, she ran up to Hank looking alarmed. The professor sensed her concern and telepathically communicated that she had been unable to make any sounds for the last hour. Hank immediately took her to his lab and looked down her throat. He then assured that everything was fine, that she probably just overdid it and should take it easy. She looked sad and held her arms out, in the universal request for a hug. He hugged her tightly and stroked her back, murmuring more assurances.

That evening she was able to whisper "Ah" again and went to bed with a smile, gently humming to herself.


	5. Don't Call Me That

**Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men, this is my first fan fiction.**

**Thank you StarlitStar, Jessywhisper, Freddie4153, and Lady Syndra for reviewing!**

**Sorry for the slow update, this chapter gave me lots of grief!**

**Chapter 5: Don't Call Me That**

Amber was eating more solid foods now, being careful not to eat too much too fast. Her metabolism had been through the wringer and only time would tell how her body would recover from the starvation. She chewed slowly, savoring the flavors with concentration, appreciating every bite, and would always thank whomever had cooked.

She was thanking a lot of people in fact. Though her voice sounded like someone recovering from laryngitis, one of the first things she did when she could speak again was to seek out everyone and thank them personally, not just for saving her, but for the little things they'd done to help her and make her more comfortable at the mansion.

Hank and Jean doubted her voice would ever get much louder. She would always be quiet, attempts to raise her voice and prolonged talking only made her throat sore, but she could speak again, and as she told Jean, that was enough.

Being able to communicate didn't make her chatter a lot, she'd told everyone she was always a quiet person, but she did begin to open up more. She would visit Ororo in her hothouse and ask about the exotic flowers there, learning everything she could from the weather witch. Hank received hugs nearly every time she saw him and quickly earned the nickname of "big blue teddy bear". She begged Rogue for her recipes and they'd often work together in the kitchen. Sometimes she'd have tea with the professor or Jean. She would murmur to the horses as she worked in the stables and laugh with the others at crude jokes about horse shit. She could walk without any problems now, and usually went flying through t he trees in the afternoon. She soon knew the grounds almost as well as Logan. When the weather was poor, she'd read in the library.

Though always quick to smile, Amber was definitely stubborn, and she began to show a bit of a temper too.

One day Peter saw her struggling with a bale of hay, and gallantly took it from her. Or at least, he _thought_ he was being gallant. She flew up at him and grabbed back at it. "Let me do it." She told him. He only laughed in a good natured way and tossed it where it needed to go with his enhanced strength. He was surprised when he turned around and saw the genuine anger on her face. She wouldn't talk to him, or anyone else who tried to step in when they saw her struggling, and would only frown for the rest of the day.

She began frowning a lot. Then she started getting up earlier than everyone else, she would haul hay and oats and shovel manure before anyone else came into the stables, and she started smiling again. But then other stable hands started getting up earlier too, since they didn't want her doing all that work herself, and she was frowning again.

One morning, she tried getting up even earlier, it wasn't even four in the morning yet when she went into the stables.

Logan, a night owl, was still up and saw a soft light turn on in the stables, so he went to investigate. He watched in silence as she lifted a bale of hay, getting a good grip and using her legs, then carefully carrying it, using her wings at the end, before flying back for another. A satisfied, though tired smile was on her face. He let her do this a couple times before he stepped into the light where she would see him.

She was surprised of course, but then looked cross. "I can do it." She said.

"I ain't stoppin' ya kid." He replied.

She blinked at him, then frowned. "Don't call me 'kid'."

He snorted as he sat down on a bench, while she continued her slow and stubborn progress with the hay. "Kid" was a nickname he used a lot, mostly because there were always so many kids around the mansion and he was never as good with keeping track of all their names as the others. But he also used it especially with Rogue, whom he felt very protective of. He'd started using it with Amber since he often found them hanging out together, and while he knew Amber was older than Rogue, her slight form and 5 foot 1 height made her look the same age, or even younger. He figured she probably didn't like it because she wanted to be seen as a woman and not a child, but he didn't mean it that way, and was about to say so, when Peter walked in.

Immediately, Peter tried to take the hay from Amber, but she pulled away so violently, she almost fell. Logan couldn't help laughing, and she looked at him angrily.

"Let me help you." Peter began.

"No!" She tried to yell, as loudly as she could, which wasn't very loud with her damaged throat, then giving Peter a deadly look she said, "I. Can. Do. It."

Peter reluctantly let her take the hay, but then grabbed two bales himself and quickly carried them, then ran back and grabbed two more before Amber could get another.

Amber looked at him and sighed, then her expression began quickly switching back and forth between anger and sadness. Finally, Logan asked without thinking, "What's wrong kid?"

She glared at him with murder in her eyes, then suddenly looked as if she'd been slapped, and Logan was shocked to see tears in her eyes.

"Don't. Please don't call me that." She was trying not to cry. "How can I get stronger if you won't let me do things?" She turned to Peter. "How am I supposed to do things for myself if you're always doing it for me? I'm so tired, it's so early, I got up so I could do things without anyone trying to help. I know you mean well, but I hate being treated like I'm weak, I know I'm not strong, but I hate being weak. Please, please, just let me do things. Even if I struggle, especially when I struggle. Because, I'm doing everything that I can, and it's not even close to what I want to do."

It was the most she had said at once since getting her voice back, and she was rasping by the end. She'd managed to hold back the tears, and now she just looked exhausted and desperate. Desperate to be understood.

"I'm sorry." Peter said, and he meant it. He hadn't understood before, but now he could imagine how he'd feel himself, if he was in her place. Weakened, trying to get stronger, but being made to feel even weaker by what other people thought was a kindness.

"Do you think you can get the rest of the hay?" He asked her.

She nodded with a hint of a smile.

"Then I'll get started cleaning the stalls. It's messy work. When you've done the hay and the rest of the feed, you can pitch in if I'm not done."

Amber was smiling again, the smile Peter hadn't seen for a while. They both got to work.

Logan was feeling like a third wheel, although he still wondered if he should apologize to Amber. But she looked his way and said, "Sorry" before he could.

"S'alright…Amber." He replied.

Nothing more was said, so he left the stables.

Peter spread the word that it was important to Amber she be allowed to do things herself, and people should ask if she wanted help, instead of just stepping in.

This was hard for a lot of people to accept, but they tried. Amber in turn learned to sometimes let others help her.

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One day, Ororo went to the store and brought back some organic pears. Amber was in the kitchen when she returned and helped put things away. She held one of the pears to her nose and smelled it. She had learned to appreciate the smell of food as well as the taste.

"Enjoy." Ororo told her with a smile.

Amber grinned over the pear and bit into it. Her smile and the way she quickly wiped juice from her chin made Storm laugh.

"That good, huh?" She asked, and tried one herself. Crisp on the outside and juicy soft on the inside, they really were delicious.

"Ah, I'd love to grow these sorts of pears here at the school." Ororo said.

"Why don't you?" Amber asked.

"Fruit trees take a lot of time, patience, and work. I've considered starting a kitchen garden, but I haven't had the time, I can barely keep up with my hothouse. Hank's talked about doing something with hydroponics, but he hasn't had enough time either."

Amber looked thoughtful. "Where would you put it?"

"There's a flat area of land with only a few trees. Near where the woods begin and the lawn ends. With a few modifications to the sprinkler system, we should be able to irrigate it."

"Would you show me?" Amber asked.

Fruit in hand, Ororo led the way, out of the kitchen and straight across the back lawn from the terrace, then through a few trees and up a small incline, and there they were. It was about the size of six tennis courts, not even half an acre. There were no paths or trails leading to it. Amber realized she'd probably flown past it before without really noticing it.

She walked and fluttered across it now, munching on the last of her pear. When she reached the far end, she smiled back at Ororo and waved her over. Then Amber sat down on her knees and started digging in the dirt with her hands, holding the pear core in her mouth. The soil was very good, smelling alive as she turned it up. She took a seed from out of the pear and buried it in the hole she'd made.

Ororo smiled and was about to say something, but Amber was sitting back and looking at the dirt in a strange way, almost fondly. Before she could ask what it was all about, Ororo saw something green peek through the soil. It began growing steadily, until Amber stood up and took a few steps back with Ororo, as the sprout grew into a tree before their eyes. Buds appeared, which quickly blossomed, but the petals fell away as fruit began to grow, until the tree was full of ripe pears, then the growth stopped.

"Pretty good, huh?" Amber asked, breathing heavily. Ororo was alarmed, Amber looked like she'd been running for miles and was out of breath. "I'm okay." Amber told her. "I've never made a pear tree grow, only apricots. It's been a long time, no wonder I feel worn out."

"This is another aspect of your mutation?" Ororo asked in surprise.

Amber nodded, taking deep breaths with her hands on her knees. Ororo walked her back to the kitchen terrace and had her sit on the steps while she fetched a glass of water. After taking a few gulps, Amber seemed much better, then Ororo found the professor. When he arrived on the terrace, he and Amber spoke telepathically.

She explained that she hadn't had much practice with this part of her power. The scientists at the complex knew about it, but they didn't keep any plants around, so there really weren't any opportunities to use it, and with neither sunlight nor enough food, she'd been too weak anyways. Instead, the scientists had occupied themselves with her wings and organ regrowth, which they found far more interesting.

Her thoughts were becoming dark, so Professor Xavier distracted her by asking her to describe how she made the pear tree grow. She told him she reached out with her energy, shared it with the seed and coaxed it to come out, the way you would a shy animal. But seeds want the potential inside of them to come out, she told him. It's in their nature, so it doesn't take much. Once they start to grow, the nutrients in the soil come kicking in. The better the soil the better the growth, but it still takes energy, Amber's energy. Going from seed to full grown tree, then bearing fruit on top of that, had left her feeling wiped.

However, she thought that with practice she might get stronger, and she asked the professor if she could help make Ororo's idea of a kitchen garden a reality. She enjoyed working in the stables, but she knew a lot of students were wanting to help with the horses too. The professor said he'd have to discuss it with the rest of the X-men, and steps would need to be taken to ensure she didn't wear herself out.

After sharing this new information about her powers with the other X-men, it was decided the kitchen garden was a go, on the condition that Amber conserve her energy and use it in small amounts at first to test her strength, she was also to have at least three helpers, and she was to leave an area where the students could grow things themselves without assistance, as a sort of learning experience.

The mutants converged on the open space. As Ororo had said, it only had a few trees, it was mostly brush, wild grass, and some large rocks. Logan quickly used his claws to chop down the trees. Peter removed the stumps and rocks. Then the work of clearing out the undergrowth began.

Logan loved working with his hands and in the outdoors, his healing factor kept him from tiring like the others, so he actually wound up doing a lot of the work. When the others tried to convince him to take a break, he'd only grunt and ignore them. Except for Amber, because she knew the secret weapon: beer. After a few hours' work, she'd fill a basket with water bottles, sports drinks, and a Molson. She'd pass everything out to the others first, then give the beer to Logan last. Logan would always stop to enjoy a Molson. When the others stopped for the day, he stubbornly kept going. Then she'd pack a little something for herself in the basket, along with a couple large roast beef sandwiches, or some meat loaf, a Molson, and a cigar. She'd sit on the post fence they'd put up around the garden and wait for him to join her.

She'd done this a few days in a row when Logan chuckled to himself. She looked at him questioningly. "You realize you've brought me a six-pack nearly every day?" He asked, still chuckling. "Not a great example for the kids."

She smiled, "It's the only way to make you stop for five minutes. And I'm not worried about you getting drunk, even if you could, you'd know your limit. You remind me of the guys I grew up with."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Most of them are rough around the edges, and almost all of them drink. Some of them are always drunk. The ones who aren't, the ones who drink, but don't get drunk, they work. Usually with their hands. Bikes, cars, woodworking, welding." She shrugged. "You'd fit right in." Then she grinned. "Of course, they'd probably pick a few fights with you first, want to see what you were made of. _Then _you'd fit right in."

Logan was surprised, Amber had never mentioned her past before, but he'd never imagined a place with guys like that. "Sounds rough, kid."

He saw her face fall before she could put a fake smile up, and he touched her hand. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be an asshole. I don't mean 'kid' in a bad way, I know you're a grown up, and a woman."

She smiled at him sadly, "I know." She said, then she tapped her head. "Up here, I know, but in here." She tapped her heart. "It doesn't know. My dad always called me 'kid'. All the time. And not in a nice way, like you. He's one of those bastards who's always drunk, drunk and mean. He'd say 'kid' like he was saying 'dog'. He'd never use my real name. And he treated me like a dog, a thing, not a person, let alone his daughter."

They were silent, then Logan touched her hand again. "I'm sorry." He said.

"You didn't do anything wrong. But if you try not to call me that, I'll try to forgive you when you forget. Deal?" She held out her hand.

"Deal." He said, and they shook on it.


	6. In the Garden

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men. This is my first fan fiction. Reviews are helpful.**

**Thank you Lady Syndra and StarlitStar for reviewing!**

**Chapter 6: In the Garden**

With Amber's improving health, she'd been moved from the ground floor to a room in the staff wing. It had a window she could open, which was all she really cared about. She was officially "Head Gardener".

She had three rotating assistant gardeners to help weed, water, fertilize, till, plant, and harvest. The kitchen garden had a cluster of fruit trees on the far end: pears, apples, plums, cherries, and apricots. The rest was mostly vegetables. The variety would rotate, but she usually kept zucchini, carrots, salad greens, potatoes, tomatoes, and a patch of strawberries in near constant supply. The students had their own area at the front of the garden, separated by a stone border-path. There they mostly grew green beans, peas, and radishes.

Amber resisted the urge to use her powers to help the student gardeners, but she could put her fingers in the soil and tell if more water or fertilizer was needed, if something had been planted too deep or not deep enough, and then she'd give the students "hints" on what to do.

Her power to grow plants had strengthened, but it had limits. She couldn't make a plant grow out of thin air, she had to have something to start with first, at least a seed or a clipping. She couldn't make something grow out of a brick wall, or even make moss grow on the wrong side of a hill. When she tried, she said the moss just got uncomfortable and ignored her.

Growing a mature tree from seed in just a few minutes seemed to be her power's extent, although it varied. Experimenting with different tree types, she learned that pines, which were slow and stubborn in their growth, gave her headaches and exhausted her easily. Whereas aspens took next to nothing and she had to hold her power back to keep suckers from exploding everywhere.

Smaller plants, like vegetables, weren't as draining. She compared the effort to grow them about equal to harvesting them. Zucchinis could be picked up from the ground, and were easy to grow. Potatoes had to be dug up, and needed a little more effort. Some plants even had a sort of personality. Rhubarb was enthusiastic and would pop up quickly. Corn was cooperative, but preferred to grow at a steady, almost dignified pace. Tomatoes were moody, sometimes they were easy, but if they didn't like the weather they'd give her trouble. Strawberries always made her smile and their energy tickled as they spread out. Even the soil seemed to rejuvenate from Amber's attention.

With so many growing kids at the school, the kitchen garden became busy fast providing fresh food, and it reduced the grocery expenses. Hank made plans for a scaffolding, to be covered in plastic, as a sort of temporary greenhouse for when the winter weather came.

Amber, now with a definite purpose that matched her powers, and surrounded by others like herself, felt more at home in her own skin than she ever had before.

The professor, who had been sensitive about bringing up her ordeal at the complex, suggested she was strong enough now to start therapy sessions with Jean. It was rarely stated aloud, but it was understood that besides experiments, abuse, and torture, there had been sexual violations. The other women and some of the men from the complex had already begun therapy for this, and while almost all of them had moved on from the mansion, they were continuing counseling elsewhere.

Amber was scared to dig back through her history, but she trusted Jean and knew she'd have to face it sometime. Jean was patient and assured her complete confidentiality, even from the professor. She gave Amber a notebook to write her thoughts in. They started sessions twice a week. Amber was restless after the sessions, so Rogue suggested a movie night afterwards.

Rogue had been watching a lot of French films because of Remy. She was trying to improve her French. Some of the old black and white "New Wave" films were sad or bizarre, but Amber liked _Breathless._ They moved on to more modern films and she kept giggling through _Amelie_ for which Scott, Jean, Kitty, Jubilee, and Bobby joined them.

Logan didn't care for movies much, but he saw the raw opening scene set in a World War One battlefield, and decided to stay and watch _A Very Long Engagement. _After the movie's gentle happy ending, Rogue told Amber she was starting to look like she could be Audrey Tautou's winged sister. Amber thanked her for the compliment, but said she'd never be that chic with all the good clean dirt she had underneath her fingernails, and she liked that part of herself.

Logan didn't say anything, but he could see what Rogue meant. Amber had put on weight and while she wasn't curvy, she'd filled out nicely, and didn't look dangerously thin anymore. Her dark eyes were big and her dark hair was growing out into a thick crop. She looked good, although he'd still prefer she weigh more.

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It was early one Saturday morning and a fog had come in. Most of the mansion snuggled deeper into their beds. Logan got up and disappeared into the fog. Besides the limited visibility, sounds and smells were different, making it a welcome challenge for him to stalk through the woods. On days like this, there was nothing he liked better than to hunt, not to kill, but to get close enough say, to a deer to touch. It was a special thrill and one of the few things that made him feel at peace with himself and his inner animal.

He had stroked the antlers of a buck and almost touched the nose of a doe who was more curious than alarmed by him, he had been moving so slow and quiet.

He was heading back to the mansion, patting his pockets for a cigar, when he heard something. He wasn't sure if it was an animal, it was soft, but it carried in the quiet. He followed it and realized it was someone singing, then he found himself a few yards away from the kitchen garden.

Amber had made an organic pesticide that wouldn't be affected by the damp and now she flew slowly over the fruits and vegetables, a large bucket in one hand with a spray nozzle in the other. Her shoes dangled just a few feet above the ground. She had started humming to herself as she worked, then singing, there were no words to it, she was just enjoying herself and liked the sound.

Logan stood among the trees and listened as the fog amplified the sweetness of Amber's soft voice, it was a gentle melody, and it seemed to fit as she flew slowly across the ground, spraying the greens below. She looked perfectly natural, as much at home singing and working outside in the fog as the deer he had found bedded down in the woods.

He felt himself relax and start to smile. A sense of kinship came over him, he wanted to call out, but hated to destroy the scene before him. So he stayed quiet as the fog began to thin. He thought to himself that she looked a little like a fairy, if fairies worked hard and wore blue jeans with dirt on the knees. _No, _he thought. _Not a fairy, one of those other things, ancient Greek or something. Hank'd know._ He left quietly and went back to the mansion as the sun began to come out.

In the kitchen, Logan pulled out the eggs and bacon and began frying himself some breakfast. Rogue came in with Jubilee and he made some for them too since he was in a good mood. The girls teased him a little, but he just threatened to eat everything himself, so their hunger made them shut up.

He was sitting at the table, enjoying his food when Amber came smiling into the kitchen from outside, the sun shining with her. Logan smiled back as she headed to the sink to wash her hands. He was taking a good look at her, and was about to offer making her breakfast too, when Jubilee giggled. He turned around and the firecracker waggled her eyebrows at him until Rogue slapped her shoulder.

Logan frowned, then he turned back to look at Amber again, and it hit him. She was starting to look desirable, and he'd been looking at her _in that way_.

_Oh shit_, he thought. He growled at Rogue and Jubilee, "I cooked, so you clean up." Then he stormed out, his good mood gone.

He went to the gym and began working some of his unexpected stress out. He'd been the one to rescue Amber and he'd dealt with hero worship before. Anything more than friendship and it all went sour. Hell, even Rogue got jealous whenever she saw him flirting with another woman.

Other women he had saved always seemed willing to throw themselves at him. He'd been sensible enough not to take them all up on their offers, but he wasn't a saint dammit! He'd slept with some of them and even tried dating a few, especially after Jean married Scott. Eventually everything would go wrong and implode. They'd get bored with him, start demanding more attention, get real bitchy, or else they'd get insecure and say that he never listened, or that he just didn't care. And if he tried to tell the truth, which is that he did listen, but they talked so much it was hard to remember it all, and that he cared about important stuff, not what kind of clothes they wore, they'd scream at him and throw a fit.

He hated the idea of going through all that again, especially with Amber, so he shoved all thoughts of her being anything more than another staff member away.

He was running on the treadmill when Kitty and Amber came in and headed over to the floor mats. They were dressed in shorts and shirts. A part of him wanted to leave, but he couldn't just avoid Amber forever, and he was curious what they were doing.

With his enhanced senses he could hear them talking as Kitty had Amber make a fist and punch a small pad. They did this for a while. Amber was pretty good for a beginner, she knew to keep her thumb on the outside and hit with the first two knuckles, she also knew to keep her elbow from extending all the way so her arm wouldn't lock. She told Kitty she had a cousin Travis who had shown her how to punch and told her if she ever punched someone, she should try to punch _through_ them or the blow wouldn't be strong enough. Kitty agreed and made a few corrections to Amber's stance, showing her how to rotate her hips and keep her elbows tucked in. Then they moved on to blocks.

Logan was glad she was starting to learn self-defense. It was required for all the staff and students, even if they weren't going to be X-men. It would also be good for her to build some muscle and gain those extra pounds she needed. He taught the more advanced classes. Kitty was about the same size as Amber, had real fighting experience as part of the team, and was good at teaching beginners, which required patience and the right amount of encouragement, so she was a perfect choice to work with Amber.

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Logan felt like things had gone back to normal. Whatever had come over him that morning was just a fluke. He went on a few missions, taught gym and self-defense, helped around the mansion, and when he ran into Amber he'd just return her infectious smile and go about his business.

One night he found her watching _Jeremiah Johnson_. It was about a man who went to live in the mountains in the 1800's, far from civilization, and got into trouble with the Native Americans. Logan thought it looked interesting so he sat down in one of the arm chairs to watch. Some kids were there too, but a few lost interest and left. One girl said it was a downer and asked if it at least had a happy ending. Amber told her it ended in kind of a draw, with no big revenge, but it was still meaningful. Only a couple kids stayed to the end.

"That was good." Logan said with a grunt. "Not sure about the folk singin', but it was good."

Amber grinned at him. "I doubted the kids would like it, but this was one of my grandpa's favorites. He loved these kinds of movies, and anything with John Wayne in it. He'd always laugh during _Dances with Wolves_ though, something about the Indian men talking like women." She started tidying up in her quiet way, flying up and over the coffee table rather than walking around it.

_Nymph_, Logan thought suddenly, the word just popping into his head. That's what she was, the word he'd been trying to think of when she was singing in the garden. He was about to tell her so, but he caught himself. Instead he helped pick up some trash, threw it away along with his empty beer bottle, then told her, "Goodnight, kid."

It wasn't until he was back in his room that he realized his mistake.

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Logan felt bad for calling her 'kid'. It was the next day and he didn't know how to apologize, and he wasn't even sure if he should. He hadn't done it on purpose and she probably knew that. He was frustrated and confused.

He liked Amber. She was stubborn in a good way, full of inner strength and determination, she was quiet, hard working, and at home with nature. He had to admit he was also attracted as a man. He'd been with a lot of women and more than legs, or breasts, or hair color (though he was partial to red heads), he liked a woman who was at ease with herself. Amber was comfortable with who she was, never mind if she had dirt under her fingernails, she had been through hell and was happy just to be alive, greeting the whole world with a smile that was damn attractive in its sincerity.

She really was like a nymph, a nature spirit who would turn herself into a tree rather than bend to someone else's will. (Logan really did know more than people gave him credit for.) He also knew the word had sexual connotations, and he couldn't help wondering how her wings might play into that.

He was pissed at himself, getting all worked up, and they hadn't even done anything! She'd brought him beer and hung out with him, he'd helped build her garden and walked through the woods with her a few times. They'd never even flirted! He just liked being around her, he cared about her, and he didn't want to mess it all up.

Any other woman and he'd just go up to her now, get into her personal space a bit, say something sexy, cock his eyebrow and smirk. Maybe she'd blush, back away, or smirk right back and sass him a little. Maybe she'd turn him down like Jean had, or else her hero worship would kick in and she'd be happy to do anything he wanted, just because he'd saved her. Then the old cycle would play out again, things would seem okay for a while, then one day she'd look at him with pure loathing, basically because he wasn't the knight in shining armor she'd thought he was, and that would be it. Maybe she'd leave the mansion after that, or maybe he would. She'd made herself a home here and he hated the thought of making her want to leave. Maybe he should go now, clear his head for a few days, get laid, and get it out of his system. If that didn't work, maybe he should just get it over with and enjoy the good parts while they lasted. Maybe…

"_Logan." _Xavier's telepathic voice interrupted his thoughts. _"Would you please see me in my study?"_

He grunted, grateful for the distraction. He was wondering if there was a new mission when he walked into the professor's study, but he scratched that thought when he saw Xavier's amused expression.

"Amber's hero worship is for Hank." Xavier told him matter of factly.

Logan was so surprised he took a step back, then he glared at the man in the wheelchair. "You been readin' my thoughts Chuck?"

"You were projecting so loudly it was difficult not to." Xavier responded with a smile.

Logan was silent for a moment. "Hank? You're sure?"

"Quite sure. She baked him cookies, dozens of them. He took care of her every day when she first arrived, and because he's so obviously a mutant, his presence made her feel safe. He's probably done more to help her than anyone, but he's explained to her he's in a long distance relationship." Logan remembered the grumpy woman with green hair Hank was so strangely committed to.

"So she doesn't bake cookies just for him anymore. She asked if she can still give him hugs, and he doesn't mind, so that's all she does."

Logan thought about that, and was surprised he felt a little bit jealous of his furry blue friend, though he knew that was stupid. But he still had his doubts. He remembered the way Amber had clung to him and shivered in his arms as he tried to warm her up when he'd rescued her, and the easy way she'd always had around him.

"She doesn't remember her rescue." Xavier informed him, picking up on his thoughts. "She was starved and dazed at the time. She vaguely remembers your claws cutting off her chains, but her first memories of you are as 'the guy who smokes' while her mind was recovering and before she started learning names. Just as I was 'the nice man in the chair' and Scott was 'the guy with sunglasses.'"

"However, she _is _comfortable around you." Xavier acknowledged. "It isn't a sort of 'bad boy' attraction some women have around you, if you'll pardon my saying. I don't know if she's attracted to you, she's been through a lot and I don't think she's attracted to anyone. It's more as if you're familiar to her, like she's known you her whole life."

"Like I'm one of the guys she grew up with?" Logan asked, remembering what Amber had told him before.

"Yes."

"Huh, so I'm just a regular guy to her?"

"Afraid so." Xavier said with amusement.

Logan wasn't sure if he should be relieved or annoyed by this revelation. Xavier advised him to make his decisions carefully and take things slow, but not to worry so much. Amber was a strong woman and could see Logan clearly for who he was, she would make her own decisions without any illusions.

He went to the kitchen for some grub and found Jubilee washing fresh lettuce with Amber.

"Seriously, hoops aren't a problem, at least not with short hair." Jubilee was saying. "How 'bout you Rogue?" She called into the pantry. "You got long hair and you wear hoops."

Rogue came out of the pantry with a pad of paper and a pen. "If she doesn't want to wear hoops, she doesn't have to. They're not for everybody." She said, then she turned to Logan with a smile.

"Hoops?" He asked.

"Hoop earrings." She explained. "We took Amber to the mall last month and she got her ears pierced. She can take the starter earrings out soon, and Jubilee's trying to convince her to start wearing hoops. But Amber says she likes simple studs and hoops aren't practical."

Logan noticed the silver studs in Amber's earlobes for the first time and thought she was right. Hoop earrings could get caught easily in a fight and then torn out. Especially if they were like the huge ones Jubilee wore.

Scott came in as Logan was rummaging in the fridge and reminded him he was supposed to pick up some lumber and supplies for a wall one of the students had accidentally blown a hole through. Rogue asked him if he could go to the store for her since he was going out, she'd been in the pantry and made a list. Logan grunted, and deciding he'd just grab a burger somewhere, he took the list and headed out.

He was in his truck and had just started the engine when he heard his name being called. Amber flew up to his door with an apologetic smile and told him Rogue had forgotten to add brown sugar to the list. "Brown sugar, got it." He said with a smile. Then she stepped back and waved as he shifted gears. "See you kid." He called out.

Dammit, messed up again!

_Two days in a row! _He fumed to himself. He felt really bad now. He was going to apologize, as soon as he got back. Then maybe start spending more time with her, see how it went. He wouldn't mind working outside in the dirt.

He stopped to get himself a burger and as he was eating, he looked across the street at a store which sold fossils and had an impressive full set of shark's teeth in the window. He noticed they had a sign which read "Natural Gem Jewelry" and thought of Amber's pierced ears. When he was done eating he went into the store and looked around, it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for, and they didn't cost much either.

He picked up the lumber and supplies, everything from Rogue's grocery list, and the brown sugar, and went back to the mansion feeling pretty good with himself. After his truck was unloaded, he went looking for Amber. It had started to drizzle, so she wasn't in the garden, and she wasn't in the kitchen, he checked the library but she wasn't there either. He went to her room and knocked on the door, she opened it and smiled up at him.

"I wanted to give ya something. As an apology y'know. For callin' ya 'kid' so many times." He pulled the little gauze bag out of his pocket and handed it over.

Amber opened it up and looked at the gift. She went still, and for a moment Logan was worried. Then she beamed up at him, and did something few women had ever done, she kissed his cheek.

"Thank you Logan!" She was almost bouncing, her wings fluttering with joy. She held the amber earrings up to the light. They were simple studs, honey colored, and she looked as happy as if they were diamonds.

He grinned at her, "So I take it I'm forgiven?" He asked.

She grinned right back at him. "Oh yes, this makes up for all the 'kids', definitely!" She grabbed his hand and tugged him into her room, there she held the amber up to her ears and looked in the mirror over her dresser. "They really are perfect." She carefully put them back into the little bag and set it on the dresser, smiling at him warmly. "My grandma wore amber. She always said it was warm with life, unlike other stones. Grandma was like that too. She was the warmest, kindest person. So amber reminds me of her and it'll always be special to me."

Then she hugged him. Logan wasn't a very huggable guy, but she didn't hug him the way most women tried to. Instead of throwing her arms around his neck, she reached under his arms and squeezed him close. She couldn't squeeze very hard, but she was warm and soft against him, and it felt _good_.

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**Author's Note: If you're curious what Amber's singing is like, go to youtube and look up "Long, Long, Time Ago" from Pan's Labyrinth.**


	7. Autobiography

**Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men, Marvel and Stan the Man do.**

**Thank you StarlitStar and KEZZ 1 for reviewing! ^_^**

**Chapter 7: Autobiography**

All the mutants whom the X-men had rescued were finally settled in their new lives. Most of them had relocated and were spread all over the world. Some younger ones were enrolled in the school as students, Amber was the only adult who chose to stay at the mansion.

The X-men had thoroughly investigated the group behind the complex. They were confident they had put it out of business for good, but knew there were other groups out there. In their interviews with the rescues, they had found new leads, which they continued to pursue.

Amber had been in therapy with Jean about her experiences at the complex, but she hadn't talked much about her life before then, only mentioning a few things about her family. Jean could tell there was a sense of loss there, but Amber had never expressed an interest in going to see her family. She'd never even said where she was from.

As a member of the staff, Amber was sometimes invited to team meetings. While not all the staff were X-men, the professor felt they should all be up to date on the team's missions. Heaven forbid something go wrong, the staff would have to step up to support the X-men and the students. They were a strong foundation whether they knew it or not. The way they'd accommodated the large number of rescues from the complex confirmed it.

During one of the meetings, Scott was reporting on a lead. One of the rescued mutants named Javier had been kidnapped from the parking lot where he worked. His mutation allowed him to change his hair color, and that was all. His employer at the restaurant where he worked and one coworker knew he was a mutant and had never treated him badly, but he'd kept it secret from everyone else, usually hiding his head under a beanie.

He had been certain one or both of them had betrayed him, and had gone with the X-men to confront them. But it turned out neither the employer nor the coworker did it. It had been a neighbor in his apartment building. The neighbor was part of a Friends of Humanity group and had noticed Javier's hair changing color one early morning as he'd run his fingers through it before pulling on his beanie.

Through the neighbor and his group, they'd been able to find more information on other mutants who had been hurt and leads to other organizations. Scott finished his update by adding how the smallest thing could be helpful and lead to bigger things.

The professor took this as an opportunity to ask Amber how she came to the complex, if she was ready to talk to them about it.

She looked at Jean, then shrugged. "I don't know."

Faces turned towards her curiously. "Honestly, I don't know. I was asleep and when I woke up, I was there." She turned to the professor. "You can read my mind, see if I'm telling the truth." The professor nodded, he knew she was telling the truth, but there was something nagging at her that he sensed she didn't want to talk about.

After the meeting he asked Jean and Amber to stay behind and talk with him. He assured Amber that Jean had kept quiet about their therapy sessions, and he didn't want to pressure her, but like Scott had said, every little piece of information could be useful. Not only to save others like herself, but to prevent others from having to go through the same.

Amber said she really didn't think she could tell them anything helpful, but she'd try if it could help stop other organizations and prevent future victims. It was complicated though, everything that happened right before she found herself at the complex, she didn't know where to start.

Jean, as her therapist, was the only one she allowed to read her journal. Jean told her she was good at writing and suggested she try writing it down, starting at the beginning. Amber agreed, and later the next day, she showed Jean what she'd written in her notebook. Jean read it carefully, then pulled Amber into a hug.

"I'm so sorry." She said. "But we're your family now. You know that right?"

Amber nodded as she blinked back tears. Jean suggested they share Amber's story with the rest of the team. Amber was reluctant, but she nodded and said, "You're right. I don't think any of this will be helpful, but we're family. Families share their stories."

That evening, the professor called a meeting and because her voice wouldn't let her talk for long, Jean read Amber's story aloud for her.

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Please keep calling me Amber. I like the name. The name I was born with was Rebecca, it's a nice name, but growing up, people called me Becks or Becky, Becca, even Bibi. It's nice having one name and amber was my grandma's favorite stone.

I grew up on a reservation in Montana. My grandpa, Bill Bedard, was Cree. He fought in World War II and he met a French nurse there. My grandma Yvonne. He brought her back with him. They had six kids. My dad's the youngest. His name's Jack. Grandma always said he was the brightest, always had the best grades. He won a scholarship to go to college in Chicago. It was a big deal. First one in our family to go to college. The whole rez was proud of him.

When he was going to school he met my mom. Her name was Rosa, but I don't remember her. She died when I was little. My aunt Irene told me that after he got his degree, my dad couldn't get a decent job. It was because he was Indian. He was working as a dishwasher and sometimes as a roofer, and he started drinking a lot. Then my mom got sick. She died of pneumonia when I was three.

So dad took me back to the rez. It was hard for him. I guess he felt like a failure. Left the rez, went to college, and didn't have anything to show for it. Except me, and I'm only quarter Cree. Racism goes in all sorts of stupid directions. I mean, everyone respected Grandpa Bill and Grandma, even though she wasn't Indian. It's so stupid.

His drinking got worse, and so did his temper. He got put in jail and Grandma took me to live with her and Grandpa. I was at their house more than dad's trailer anyways, and I stayed with them after he got out. He'd come over for dinner sometimes, or I'd see him around the rez. He always treated me like a dog and called me 'kid'. Even talking about me to Grandma, I was 'the kid'. Sometimes I really thought he wished I'd never been born.

I was a late bloomer, my wings didn't start growing out of my back until I was sixteen. My grandma knew, but she was the only one. I was really lucky. She said I was her fairy princess and late at night, we'd go out to the woods so I could learn to fly. We found out I could make plants grow when I was helping with her flower garden. She loved apricots and had a few trees by the house. Apricots can be hard, they'll bear tons of fruit one year and then nothing for five years after. I learned to use my powers so she had fruit every year.

I wouldn't have minded telling my grandpa, but he'd had a hard attack and was always weak after that. I didn't want to stress him out. I didn't let anyone know. I always kept my back covered, even with my boyfriends.

Grandpa died when I was nineteen. Then it was just Grandma and me. She was a stubborn lady, never wanted to slow down, so sometimes she'd get sick, or fall and hurt herself. There were a couple times I was sure she'd broke her hip. So I took care of her, but I didn't mind. She'd always taken care of me.

She died when I was twenty-two. It was after the funeral. Everyone was at the house and they'd started drinking. I was cleaning up the food and stuff and something spilled on my blouse. So I went to my room to change, then my uncle Joe came barging in, asking where the whiskey was. He saw my wings because I was just in my skirt and bra, and next thing I knew, he was dragging me out of my room in front of the whole family.

I remember the look in my dad's eyes, all hate and fire. He started hitting me, and kicking me. I tried to get away, but I don't know if everyone was just shocked or drunk, they closed in around us. I kinda remember women screaming and someone telling him to let up. But I just curled up in a ball while he beat me, until I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was at Aunt Irene's and she was sitting next to me, crying. She kept telling me she was so sorry and that everything would be okay. Then my cousin Travis, her son, came in and told me not to worry, that he wouldn't let my dad anywhere near me.

Travis was in the army, he's a strong guy. Nobody ever messes with him. He looked out for me when I was younger. I think it's partly because I remind him of his little sister, Delilah. She died in a car wreck. I guess he was outside the house when my dad started up on me, Irene got him and he pulled my dad off me, then they took me to Irene's.

Travis lives in Detroit, he's a mechanic, has his own shop. He told me he had some friends who were mutants and he thought it'd be a good idea if I went with him to meet them. He put me in his truck and took me to the house to get my stuff, but my dad was there, screaming bloody murder. So Travis said we'd just get it later. Irene gave me some of her clothes and we headed to Detroit.

I had a split lip and a black eye, and bruises all over. Travis kept fussing over me, making sure I was warm enough, stopping to get me some ice and something to drink. Telling me to tilt the seat back and get some sleep.

We got to his apartment and he called his friends. They were out of town or something and couldn't come by right away. It had been a few days so I didn't hurt as much, and he asked if I'd like to go fishing. So that's what we did. Got up real early, drove out of town and fished. He told me everything was gonna be alright. We got back, fried up some of our catch, and things were starting to feel normal again.

His friends stopped by the next day and they seemed pretty nice. I remember one girl had fangs and one guy could make fire in his hands. They told Travis there was going to be an anti-mutant rally and it would be safer for me to get out of town. He'd already closed his shop to go to Grandma's funeral and take me fishing, so I told him I'd be fine.

They had an SUV and we headed south, I think. We stopped at a motel and I was sharing a room with the fang girl. I went to bed and when I woke up, I was in a cement room in the complex.

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Jean finished reading Amber's story and looked around.

Ororo was hugging Amber, and Rogue was holding her hand. Scott was silent, but the muscles in his jaw twitched with anger. Logan was pacing. Remy looked anxiously at the professor, who was regarding Amber sadly.

"Amber." He began, then he sighed. "Thank you for telling us all this. It does help, just not the way I would have liked."

He opened a folder on his desk and flipped through some things, then he moved his chair over to Amber. He held out some papers with photos on them. Amber stared, then she looked up at him.

"That's them." She said. "That's Travis' friends, and that's…that's Travis right there. Oh God! They got us all and then…did they go after Travis too?"

The professor looked at her with a strange expression, his face distraught. Logan growled. Everyone was looking at her so strangely. "Please, please just tell me."

Professor Xavier took her hand in his, then he looked in her eyes. "I'm sure your cousin is fine." He said. "The complex had some mutants working for them, those mutants you met worked for them. They probably drugged you at the motel."

Amber's face turned white as a sheet. "No." She said.

"Amber." He continued, glancing at the other X-men. "Your cousin Travis, we've been looking for him, but we didn't even know his real name until now. He…"

The professor took a deep breath, then he let her have it square on the chin. "He actually sold you to them, like he sold other mutants."

"No, no, no." Amber gasped as she slowly stood, tears falling freely down her face. "It's a mistake. Travis took care of me, he taught me how to drive, and how to punch, he threatened…all my boyfriends" She sobbed, "if they didn't take care of me…he'd break their legs."

She looked around wildly at all the X-men.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am, my dear." Xavier said.

Amber turned and ran. She didn't know where she was going at first, but she needed to scream, really scream. She could feel it building up inside her. Pain and betrayal. And it was violent.

She ran to the gym, there she began lashing out, first at the punching bags, then at the walls, then she started clawing at herself. She kept trying to scream, but couldn't because of her throat. She felt strong arms grab her and found Logan holding her tightly, gripping her wrists so she wouldn't hurt herself.

"He…he was family. He took me fishing. He…he said he'd always protect me…and he…he…" She gave a strangled cry as she tried to scream.

"I know, I know." Logan growled in her ear.

"I can't." She sobbed, "I can't let it out…I want to scream, but I can't."

"Then I'll scream for you." He said, and let out a roar.


End file.
